


the attractions of youth

by prettierodds



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drinking, F/M, Gen, M/M, New Year's Eve, elena and rafe bond, sam is in LOVE love, the drake brothers are a mess not much has changed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 06:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettierodds/pseuds/prettierodds
Summary: “Does Sam talk about me?”And it’s so soft, so hesitant, that Elena opens her eyes and slides down, leveling herself with Rafe so that their shoulders are pressed together. He doesn’t look at her. He moves one hand to nervously trace his fingertips above his left eyebrow, a tic Elena had noticed before in the times Rafe had joined them. She’s not sure how clear her thoughts are, but she places a hand on his forearm as steady as she can manage.“Yeah. He does.”





	the attractions of youth

It’s New Year's Eve, 11:40 PM.

The Drake residence was for once, ironically, strangely quiet.

Samuel Drake and his younger brother Nathan were both passed out (and had been for the last twenty minutes), surrounded by empty glasses, bottles, and colorful beaded necklaces proudly bought by Nathan’s wife Elena. 

_No, it’s not negotiable. You wear it or find a different party._

_Of course we’ll wear them, Elena. Shut up, Sam._  

The TV was still on, humming with interviews by celebrities as the crowd in Times Square waited for the ball to drop. It looked fucking cold.

Elena sighed to herself as she twirled an almost empty bottle between her hands, propping her feet up on the cluttered coffee table. She leaned her head back against the top of the sofa, fighting to keep her eyes open. She at least wanted to be able to rub it in her husband's face that he fell asleep and she didn’t. _Fell asleep or passed out drunk_ , she mused. It didn’t really matter. Her thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening.

“That was locked.” Is the bright thing she thinks to say, instead of ‘who’s there?’ or something, you know, helpful.

“Uh .  . . Yes, it was. That's what keys are for.” The door closes again and Elena picks her head up to see who apparently has keys to her house. She smiles and leans back again.

“Heyyy Rafe. I didn’t think you were coming.” Elena raises her bottle to him and takes a sip. It’s getting harder to keep this stuff down; the three of them had been casually drinking for all of the afternoon and most of the evening. Rafe, however, was disappointingly sober.

“Elena.” He tries to hold back a grin as he surveys the mess of discarded paper plates and cups. “I see you all had a good time. Should I even try waking Sam?” Rafe Adler walks into the living room the way he walks everywhere; overly confident, commanding, like he’s been there his whole life. It used to rub Elena the wrong way, but she grew to see why it could be considered attractive. He never looked out of place.

“ _Hell_ yeah, we did.” She laughs to herself. “But no. Sam’s been out for like, _hours_.” Really thirty minutes, at the most.

“Hm. Does sound like him.” He walks over to the larger couch where Sam is curled on his side, arm hanging off the side and fingers brushing an empty glass. Rafe smiles a bit, lips quirking up at one end and reaches down to gently run his hand through Sam’s hair. Elena has the good sense to pretend she doesn’t see him, but files it away to accidentally mention later.

“So, is there a reason you weren’t with us getting drunk tonight?” Elena says, a bit slurred. Rafe sits down beside her on the ground, back against the couch and looks up at her.

“Work, mostly.”

“Work? That’s lame.” They both turned their attention to the TV as the crowd exploded in applause at something. Maybe a musical act. Elena thought the TV looked a little out of focus. “Weird.” She mutters at it.

“Yeah, I’ve never understood watching the ball drop. It’s kind of boring.” Elena nods, fair enough, and the two sit in silence for a moment.

It’s 11:51, nine minutes until it’s officially a new year.

Elena never would’ve thought she’d be sitting here with Rafe, of all people. He didn’t get along with Nathan, he was stubborn and difficult and too prideful for his own good. She really didn’t understand how Sam put up with him. But that’s how relationships worked, she supposed. Of course, It’s not like she and Nathan were perfect. There were petty arguments about dishes and laundry, and frustrated bouts of silence over honesty and how to orchestrate the future. But they came back to each other, always. Because that’s how relationships worked.

What had she been thinking about?

 Oh right. _Rafe, of all people._

Even now, he was sitting against the couch with his arms perched on bent knees, watching the TV through half closed eyes. Not saying anything, not attempting conversation--

“Elena?” He said softly. The voice surprised her so much that she almost dropped the now-empty bottle in her hand.

“Rafe?” She echoed.

“I know . . . I know you and Nathan and Sam get together when we’re in the country.”

“Yeah. Nate misses you guys. Well, Sam mostly but, you know. You’re growing on him.” She smiles to the ceiling. Below her, Rafe is frowning at the ground.

“And I’m not with you that often.” He continues. Elena can’t help but mutter “you could make more of an effort,” although it’s under her breath, so maybe Rafe doesn’t hear it. 

“Does Sam talk about me?”

And it’s so soft, so hesitant, that Elena opens her eyes and slides down, leveling herself with Rafe so that their shoulders are pressed together. He doesn’t look at her. He moves one hand to nervously trace his fingertips above his left eyebrow, a tic Elena had noticed before in the times Rafe had joined them. She’s not sure how clear her thoughts are, but she places a hand on his forearm as steady as she can manage.

“Yeah. He does.” Elena racks her mind for any time the older Drake brother had brought up Rafe. To her slight surprise, she doesn’t have to try very hard.

_I know you don’t like him, Nathan, but once you actually talk to him about something besides ancient artifacts and history, you’ll see._

_He’s smart, huh? Smartest guy I've ever met._

_Wait, Rafe loves this song. I told him I would listen to it._

_Nathan! Come look at this thing. Rafe showed it to me._

_Elena, send me this recipe, I want to surprise Rafe._

_Okay, I just wanted your opinions. Do you . . . Honestly, what do you think of this ring? Too simple? I think he’ll like it._

“He loves you. He says that in a lot of different ways.” Elena finally says quietly. “He gets like . . . I dunno, excited when he talks about you. It’s cute. Like a high school kid on his first date.” She turns to the man beside her, as sober as she'll be tonight. “He makes sure we all know he’s in love.”

The two looked over at Sam, who was still passed out on the couch. He snored softly and Rafe couldn’t help but smile. Rafe took in everything--the snoring, the slightly messy hair that he kept promising to cut but never did, some faded dash scars on his face covered by stubble and laugh lines--and felt like he’d never realized how in love he himself was.

“That’s . . ." Rafe couldn't quite put it into words. "Thank you.” He whispered. Elena was slowly starting to lose track of her coherent thoughts, but still felt like she had accomplished something, so she said “You’re welcome,” and smiled at her own mess of a husband before drifting off. The last thing she remembered was Rafe taking her hand as the host on the TV started counting down

“ . . . 6! 5! 4!”

Elena liked this little family they had created, she thought, and squeezed Rafe’s hand back.

 “ . . . 3! 2! 1!”

Midnight passed over the house quietly, softly, bringing with it the subtle promise of a new year, a new chapter of life.

The small, velvet-lined box anxiously waiting in Sam's jacket agreed.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love imagining sam just,,,head over fucking heels in love, and the idea of elena and rafe actually getting along
> 
> the title is a song by barns courtney (and also just a really cool phrase)


End file.
